


Oregano

by stevergxrs



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Actor Chris Evans, F/M, Marijuana, Recreational Drug Use, Rough Sex, Smut, Vaginal Sex, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-08 13:06:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18623872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stevergxrs/pseuds/stevergxrs
Summary: Summary: After having a terrible day you decide to kick back and relax with your best friend. That is… until you find something interesting in his dresser.





	Oregano

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: I’m dedicating this fic to @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan who actually gave me this idea a few weeks ago and pretty much has been making me giggle inappropriately at work because of it.

“Christopher!” you shouted into the phone after he finally answers after the second time you tried calling him twice without an answer. **  
**

“Y/N!” he replied with concern. “You okay?”

 

“Yes… no…” you sighed. “Are you home right now?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Okay, good. ‘Cause I’m outside your house and I need to borrow some of your clothes,” you said before hanging up and ringing the doorbell.

 

“Okay?” Chris said to himself before getting up from his couch. He walked over to the door and pulled it open, to find you drenched from the rain, hugging yourself for warmth.

 

“Shit. Y/N! Get in here!” He grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you inside.

 

“I can see why you wanted to borrow some of my clothes,” he mused as you dropped your messenger bag on the floor.

 

“What happened?” he asked, concern showing in his eyes.

 

“Shower first. Then I’ll tell you,” you answered back.

 

“Right,” he agreed. “Bathroom is upstairs, third door on the right, and you can grab whatever you want from the dresser. I’ll make us something to eat.”

 

“You’re the best.” You gave him a weak smile as you walked passed him.

You had met Chris back in Los Angeles while on assignment for Esquire Magazine, snapping pictures in promotion of a movie almost a year ago. The both of you instantly hit it off. He appreciated the fact that you don’t treat him “like a piece of meat.” And you liked the fact that he was a dorky down to earth guy with you could crack jokes with and pretty much be yourself with, which to be honest, made you immediately attracted to him. Unfortunately, you were both in relationships.

* * *

 

You stripped yourself of your wet clothing got in his shower, letting the warm water relax your tense muscles. Thinking back to everything that happened earlier today, you wondered how the hell you didn’t end up murdering someone.

 

“Shit! Cold! Cold!” You yelped, instantly shutting off the faucet and stepped out of the tub, grabbing one of Chris’ towels, and wrapping it around your frame.

 

Walking into Chris’ bedroom, you made your way across the room and into his dresser, opening one of the drawers at random. Rummaging through the cabinet, you ultimately decided on the blue henley. You slipped it on, the hem of his shirt reaching mid-thigh. You went to close the dresser when suddenly, you felt a crunch on the bottom of your foot.

 

“What the hell?” you muttered under your breath as you bent down and picked up a small plastic baggie with what seemed to be marijuana in it.

 

You pulled the baggie open and took a quick whiff, the surprising smell of sweetness and berries infiltrated your nostrils.

 

“Y/N! Food’s ready!” you heard Chris shout from downstairs.

 

You closed the baggie up and took it with you downstairs, where you found him placing two plates filled with Spaghetti and Meatballs on the living room floor.

 

“Looks good,” you said as you watched him take a bite out of his food.

 

“Tastes even better,” he answered with a smile.

 

“Although…” You leaned against the doorway, “It looks like it could use some oregano.”

 

He cocked up an eyebrow at you in confusion.

 

You smirked and lifted up the plastic baggie so that he could see it. “Care to explain?”

 

He dropped his fork in surprise. “Oh! That!” He jumped up from his chair and rushed over to you, snatching the baggie from your hand.

 

You giggled at how flustered he was. “Is that for your glaucoma, old man?” You were referring to the thick-rimmed glasses he was wearing.

 

“Ha, no,” he deadpanned.  “If you must know, it’s for my anxiety,” he confessed.

 

You put your hands up in defense. “I’m not judging.”

 

You saw a smile spread across his face. “You smoke?”

 

“Not since college.” You ran your fingers through your hair. “Why?”

* * *

 

“So, what’s got you down, doll?” Chris asked as he took a drag of the joint you rolled up.

 

He handed you the joint and you took it, holding it to your lips before taking a drag, letting the smoke fill your lungs. He watched, completely mesmerized as you blew smoke from your lips.

 

“It’s been a shitty day today. That’s all,” you answered before taking another drag, the drug starting to help you relax. “For starters, my car wouldn’t start, so I got to work an hour late,” you started to say as you blew out the smoke.

 

You passed the joint back to Chris, who watched you cautiously as you ran your fingers through your hair again. “And once I got there, the guy I’m shooting photos for is a fucking douchebag.”

 

“Really?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “May I ask who it is?” he asked out of curiosity.

 

“Not allowed to say.” You plucked the joint from his lips. “Anyways, he was hitting on me the entire shoot, asked me for my number, then called me a fucking cunt when I refused. Then I went to go buy food, but I forgot my wallet at home, and finally… I got caught in the rain,” you explained, taking another drag.

 

“All I want to do now is just hang out with my best guy.”

 

“Fuck, I’m sorry you had to go through that, kiddo,” he replied, pulling you close to him.

 

You weren’t sure what came over you, but you bit your lip, watching his mouth as he spoke, wondering how they would feel against your own. Better yet, how they would feel between your thighs.

 

“Fuck,” you blurted out, interrupting Chris who just stared at you.

 

“You okay?” he asked.

 

“Yeah, sorry. I spaced out for a moment,” you replied, mere seconds before an idea popped into your head. “Have you ever tried to shotgun weed with someone?”

 

“Shotgun weed?” he asked in surprise.  “No.”

 

A sly smile spread across your face. “Can I show you?” you whispered in a sultry voice.

 

That Granddaddy Purple was really doing the trick.

 

Chris nodded, but watched you cautiously.

 

You sat closer to him. “Okay. When I tap your hand, just suck, okay?”

 

“Okay.” he agreed quickly. You held the joint to your lips and took a long drag before leaning in to Chris. You watched as his blood-shot eyes dart down to your lips as you pressed your lips against his.

 

His eyes went wide in surprise. Suddenly he felt a tap on his hand, indicating your signal. He closed his eyes,  inhaled and sucked in the smoke you held in your mouth. You felt his large hands grab onto your hips and hoist you up and onto his lap, straddling him. You pulled away and opened your eyes, only to find Chris staring at you, his icy blue eyes now darker and hooded as he exhaled .

 

You stared at each other for a moment, as if you were both contemplating if you should cross the line from friends to lovers. He plucked the join from your hand and placed it on the ashtray on the coffee table without taking his eyes off you. You felt your heart pound against your chest. In that moment, you took the chance to cup his face with both hands and crashed your lips against his in a hungry kiss. He slanted his mouth over yours, deepening the kiss. God his lips were so soft, slightly chapped, but soft nonetheless.

 

His grip on your hips tightened and you let out a hiss. You hips start moving on their own accord, the stimulation of Chris between your legs, mixed with the high, were intoxicating. Chris let out grunt as you ground your clothed pussy against his crotch, clawing at his shirt. After you managed you pull his shirt off, His hands ran ran down to your thighs and grabbed the hem of the blue henley, and pulled it up, revealing your bare breasts

 

His lips left yours and burned a trail down your neck and onto your collarbone, wrapping his lips around your right nipple and massaging the left with his hand. You cried out the sudden sensation of his tongue lavishing the pert bud. Your hand snaked down in between the two of you and shoved it down his sweatpants and boxers, feeling his cock get hard as you stroked him.

 

“Hang on.” Chris set you down on the floor and pulled his sweatpants off, along with his boxers, smirking at the reaction you had at sight his thick, hard cock.

 

“Fuck me,” you blurted out, making him chuckle.

 

“Don’t worry doll.” Chris gave you a wink. “I’ll make sure I give you what you want.”

 

He laid back on the L shaped couch and beckoned you over to him. You pulled your panties down and straddled him, leaning over and pressing a kiss on his lips while grinding your weeping cunt against his cock. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you upwards until you were pretty much straddling his face. You lowered yourself onto his face and immediately cried out as Chris’ tongue snaked out and lapped at your pussy.

 

At first his beard tickled against your thighs, but the faster his tongue moved, the more the beard started to deliciously burn you. “Fuck!” You moaned out loud as you leaned forward, gripping the back part of the chair while Chris was straight up devouring your cunt. “So good, Chris.”

 

With his mouth devouring your pussy, his right hand trailed down his body, grabbing his cock and stroking it, letting out a strangled groan, the sound of it sending delicious vibrations through you. Your hand left the couch and threaded your fingers through the short, dark brown strands of hair and pulled on it while he wrapped his lips against your clit and sucked hard, making you cry out his name as you came.

 

“F-fuck Ch-Chris!” you stuttered, trying to pull away, but he was too strong and drew out another orgasm from you. Too close to the first, it bordered on painful.

 

He let go of your waist and you moved back, straddling his hips again. This time he didn’t stop you as your positioned yourself over his cock and sunk down onto him, reveling in the delicious burn of Chris’ cock stretching you out.

 

“Fuck!” He sat up on the couch, watching you cautiously. “You okay?” he whispered hoarsely.

 

“Yeah,” you moaned.  “Just never been with someone so big before.”

 

He let out a laugh, then leaned in and kissed you passionately. “So perfect,” he mumbled against your lips.

 

You rocked your hips against his, crashing your lips against his, tasting your juices. He tightened his grip on your waist and left marks on your neck chest, claiming you.

 

“Fuckin’ tight,” he snarled, his hand snaked in where you were both connected and used his thumb to rub against your swollen clit.

 

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, digging your nails deep into his shoulders. “Harder, baby.”

 

You could feel your impending third orgasm coming, more intense than the last two. God, you were close. That is, until Chris pulled out of you.

 

“Goddammit,” you cried out in frustration as Chris pulled you off of him.

 

He gave you a devilish smirk as he crawled on top of you, hooking your right leg around his narrow waist. You bit your bottom lip to stifle a moan as you felt him rub the head of his cock rub up and down against your cunt.

 

“So fucking wet doll,” he rasped before finally pushing into you.

 

He stilled for a moment, trying to regain control of himself. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.” He let his forehead rest against yours.

 

You lifted your head up and kissed him in response. “Chris… move,” you pleaded.

 

He pulled out slowly, then pushed back in, earning the most obscene and pornographic moans he had ever heard in his life. He draped your legs over his shoulders, practically bending you in half.

 

He sped up his thrusts, practically fucking you into the sofa. This new position had him hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, your third orgasm getting more intense by the moment.

 

“Chris, I’m gonna cum,” you cried out, the room echoing with the sounds of his balls smacking against your ass.

 

“Come on baby,” he growled, his pelvis grinding against your clit, relieving the ache between your legs. “Cum on my cock, baby.”

 

You chanted his name as your orgasm slammed into you like a fucking train, your vision becoming black.

* * *

 

“Y/N?” You heard Chris’ voice.

 

Slowly, you opened your eyes to find Chris staring at you, concern etched across his face. “Are you okay?”

 

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “I’m okay, why?”

 

He let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God.” He cupped your face with his hand, this thumb caressing your cheek. “You passed out on me.”

 

“Really?” you asked in surprise. “How long was I out?”

 

“‘Bout five seconds,” he replied, getting up from the couch and picking up his boxers, slipping it on and walking into the kitchen, only to come back a few minutes later, holding some paper towels.

 

He crawled onto the couch next to you and used the paper towels to clean you up. “So I think we need to have a talk,” Chris heard you say after a moment of silence.

 

“Oh… okay?” He replied, watching you lean over the couch to grab your panties and his blue henley and slipped it on.

 

“So…” you trailed off, messing with the hem of his shirt, trying to form the words in your head.

 

“So…” He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head.

 

“Do you regret what happened?” you asked quietly, not sure if he heard you at all.

 

“Are you kiddin’ me?” he asked before leaning in and placing a kiss on your lips, “Of course not.”

 

He intertwined his hand with yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, “What about you?” He asked, “Do you regret what happened?”

 

You stared into his cerulean eyes and gave him a smile, “No. I don’t. I really like you Chris.” you confessed.

 

He captured you lips with his in a hungry kiss, gently biting your bottom lip as he pulled away, “I really like you too, Y/N.”

 

You laid your head on his shoulder, “So what happens now?”

 

He placed a kiss on the top of your head, “We could always go for round two?”  

 

You got up from the couch and snuffed out the joint that was on the ashtray, “Only if you catch me first.”


End file.
